The Pursuit of Happiness
by the ramblin rose
Summary: Caryl oneshot. Daryl pursues what may be the last thing on Earth to bring complete happiness.


**AN: This is just a little Caryl one shot inspired by a conversation/request from liveinadive. It's just lighthearted and fun. Nothing too serious here at all. There's a little coarse language, though, so you're warned of that if you might have a problem.**

**Also, since the conversation was inspired by the deep and tragic loss of the last of her chocolate covered marshmallow Easter treats, I am offering a warning to her and anyone else who might be traumatized by the thought that these delectable goodies are gone from their grasps forever. Brace yourself for it and stop reading now if you can't handle the horrible possibility of their passing from existence.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

The darkness of the prison was absolute. It was impossible to know even if the sun was up yet, but Daryl doubted it. His internal clock was more or less set to wake somewhere around a half hour before the sun was up and by the time he made it out to the yard for the change of the guard or for whatever activity awaited him, he would usually find the first light of morning cracking through the clouds.

He dressed in the blackness of the cell. He didn't need a light. He knew the space now as well as any blind man might now his most intimate locations. It wasn't until he needed to pack the small bag that he would carry that he lit the lamp that illuminated the space.

And the only other life form that was aware he was even awake shifted and let out a low growl, her body curling against his back as he sat on the edge of the cot.

Daryl had been sleeping in the cell for almost as long as they'd been in the prison. He'd never meant to sleep there. The first night that he'd ended up there, it had been almost by accident. It had been like he was moving with some kind of magnetic pull outside of himself. He'd meant, honestly, to leave the cell as soon as he was free.

But once he'd been wrapped in the loving embraces of the woman that he'd been drawn to for so long…the only woman that ever pulled at him like that…he'd never wanted to leave. He hadn't even wanted to leave when morning broke the following morning.

But he had left because neither of them had been comfortable with being the source of chatter and entertainment for everyone else in the prison. As surely as he'd left though, spending the day distracted by the thought of her warmth and the lingering smell of her on his skin, he'd made his way back. And he'd done that every night, feeling almost like a thief stealing around in the blackness, as he came with the darkness and left with the light.

He had found, though, something in those hours that made the hours between his visits more bearable. He'd found something that had changed him so much that everyone around noted that, even if they weren't entirely sure of the reason the change had come about.

He'd found the one thing he doubted that there was in the world for him. He'd found someone who loved him and someone he loved.

And now they both knew that their secret would be up soon. They both knew that everyone would be more than aware, one day before long, that the sounds they heard in the night weren't Walkers trapped in tombs and growling out against their starvation. And they'd know that the sounds weren't all contributable to others in the prison who openly admitted their affections.

Because, before too long, there would be an excess of Dixons at the prison…and that one would refuse to remain hidden under the darkness of night and the secret trips.

When Carol shifted again, stretching straight and curling back into Daryl's back like a cat seeking warmth, Daryl wanted to say that he wasn't going on some stupid run. He wanted to say that he wasn't waiting for just the right way to tell everyone their little secret. The way that he was going to tell them was by blowing out the lamp, refusing the run, and spending the whole day…sun, rain, and Walkers be damned…curled up next to her.

But he had responsibilities and he wasn't going to be a man to skirt those, not any of those, now that he finally had people who believed in him enough to trust him with things that were important to them. Even if those things were things as small as accompanying Glenn and Michonne on a supply run to check out a superstore that they'd found not far from there and which, at first glance, appeared to be only partially picked clean.

Daryl stood up, leaving his catlike mistress curling into blankets. She rolled and smiled up at him.

"Leaving me?" She purred at him.

He smiled.

"Short run," he said. "You go back ta sleep an' you ain't even gonna know I was gone."

Her smile softened.

"I always know you're gone," she said.

Daryl leaned and kissed her, her soft lips always a welcome touch to him.

"Anything you want? I think we're just scowering for basics…Michonne's liable ta handle all the lady products…but any special requests?" Daryl asked.

Carol hummed and stretched again. If he got out of there quickly enough, she'd sleep a little more.

"Something sweet?" She asked. "Candy…cookies…anything sweet? But chocolate if you can?"

Daryl chuckled to himself and nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "You got it."

He almost didn't have to ask. Her requests were always the same if it was going to be something special for her. She had a sweet tooth, and it was even worse now. And Daryl knew just what he would look for because he remembered the last time that he'd found some, on accident, and she'd been just about as happy as he'd ever seen her.

Daryl kissed her again and gathered up his bag.

"Stay safe?" He asked.

"Nine lives," she responded.

He blew out the lamp and left her and most of the prison sleeping while he went to find the few other early risers that would join him in the run.

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

This Wal Mart looked like it was the day after Christmas when the world had come slamming to a hard halt. They'd thought they might find it only somewhat picked over, but apparently every bulk shopper in the area had been here when the catastrophe had begun and they'd stocked up.

Things were missing from the story that Daryl expected. The entire electronics section of the place, full of everything that no one would ever need again, was cleaned out. It was evidence of the early looters who thought, much like he and Merle had thought in the beginning, that this was their chance to get all the hot merchandise they could so that it could be sold when the world was on all systems go again.

Cash registers were destroyed and busted open, loose change covering the whole front of the store while folding money, less valuable now than toilet paper, was nowhere to be seen.

That had been the first wave of looters.

They'd moved through the sections for soap, shampoo, detergents, homing goods, and anything else that they might need, all three of them armed with carts, and they'd gotten whatever was left there that anyone might want…but it hadn't been much. The same with the food section…anything that wasn't at risk of going immediately bad was snatched so quickly off the shelves that the place smelled nauseating from all the busted bottles and jars that had fallen to the floor in the scramble.

That was the second wave of looters.

And they were the third. They were the clean-up committee. They were like mice out looking for crumbs to bring back. Their haul was depressing. The delivery truck they'd stolen for the occasion was mocking them by the time they got it loaded and left Michonne guarding it, open and half empty, for Daryl and Glenn to do the final sweep.

The final sweep was what you wanted…it was anything special that you might want for yourself and anything that hadn't been claimed already "for the good of the group." They'd guarded the truck while Michonne had done hers and Daryl knew the woman well enough now to know that she'd been responsible for clearing every single one of the candy bars out of the store that was left. Trampled on or not, Michonne wanted it.

She'd also clear the book section. It was a section that no one but Michonne ever seemed to think about, but it had served her well to remember it every time she went somewhere. People would trade just about any good they had for a book they hadn't read when the nights started to get long.

Daryl watched as Glenn darted off to get whatever he was after. Daryl didn't care what Glenn was after because he had his own shopping list. None of it was for him, but that didn't matter to him anyway. He jogged toward the food aisles. His eyes had skimmed shelves when they made their sweep and he was almost certain he saw what he was looking for, but now he wasn't so sure.

He hit the aisle that should be loaded with sweet cakes filled full enough of preservatives to outlast them all. He ran his eyes quickly over the boxes and finally crammed a few of them into his bag that boasted chocolate and anything else she might like.

But it wasn't what he wanted and it hadn't been what had brought such a smile to her face.

He ran to the next aisle and nearly slammed into Glenn as he was filling a bag there with things off the shelf…whatever was left it looked like. And Daryl's eyes surfed over the half destroyed decorations leftover from the holiday in progress when the world stopped.

Dead plastic bunnies and broken suckers cracked under his shoes while he made an effort to grab at things before the Korean got them.

But still he hadn't found the chocolate covered marshmallow treats…the thing he wanted most off the shelves.

And he didn't see them until they were in the man's grasp.

Daryl cast his eyes quickly back to the shelf where those had just come from, but they were the last pack. This was the last pack of chocolate covered marshmallow treats in the store and possibly in the entire world…and Glenn had his dirty little grubby hands all over them.

"Those are mine!" Daryl barked out.

Glenn froze, the prize close to his bag.

"What?" He asked.

"Those are mine," Daryl repeated, a little calmer and clearer now.

Glenn looked at Daryl and looked at the treats in his hand. He chuckled and shook his head.

"I don't think so," he said. "First come first serve. Looks like they're mine."

Daryl would usually give it to Glenn. He let him have first pick of damn near everything. He let everyone have first pick of damn near everything. And so did Carol.

But today was not that day.

"Glenn, gimme the damn eggs," Daryl said, holding out his hand.

"Are you serious?" Glenn asked. "No! These things were hard to get when they were in season. They're mine. You should have been quicker."

"Carol wants 'em," Daryl said, hoping to play on Glenn's sentiments for Carol.

Glenn laughed and shook his head, moving the box and his bag a little farther away from Daryl.

"Maggie wants them," Glenn said.

Daryl hummed.

"You forgot somethin'," he offered.

"What?" Glenn asked.

"I don't give one hot damn what Maggie wants," Daryl said.

And he did the only thing that he could think to do. He did the same thing he'd been doing since he was a small child and Merle had something he felt was his, or was rightfully his, and wouldn't give it to him. He lunged toward Glenn.

And Glenn saw it coming because he started to run through the darkened store. Daryl pursued him, wishing he smoked less so he could have a chance of outrunning the kid and maybe tackling him to the ground, in an effort to get the eggs.

Glenn might have outrun him, too. He might have gotten away entirely, but he did the same thing that most people not used to being chased by anything remotely dangerous do and kept turning back to check his progress. It slowed him down more than he realized and it also stopped him from being able to see the fallen sale sign that caught his foot and sent him sailing to the ground.

He rolled, trying to protect his treasure, but Daryl was on top of him.

And Daryl was surprised when the fight, that he thought would simply be him pulling Glenn's fingers loose from the package, turned into something more and he got a well-landed punch to the face for his efforts. He returned it, though not with his full force because he'd never actually wanted it to have to come to blows, and he grabbed the package while Glenn was stunned.

But Glenn wouldn't fully let go, and the wrestling continued from there.

It might have never ended, actually, if they hadn't been stopped by Michonne's yelling at both of them.

"I hear shit going on in here and I think the two of you are being attacked by Walkers, just to come in here and find out you two dumbasses are attacking each other?" She said when they gave her their attention.

"They're mine," Glenn panted from his position on the floor under Daryl.

"I called 'em, they mine," Daryl spat. "Carol wants 'em."

"Why do you care what Carol wants so bad?" Glenn asked. "I think you busted my lip. Am I bleeding? I taste blood…I'm bleeding!"

"They're mine," Daryl spat again, snatching the pack loose from Glenn's grip while he was distracted with the split lip that Daryl had offered him in exchange for a black eye. He actually smiled a little at the pack and got to his feet.

"Are you satisfied with yourself, Dixon?" Michonne asked, smirking at him.

"Damn straight," he declared. "Anywhere we go, you come across any of these, and I done called 'em…keep it mind."

Michonne helped Glenn up while Daryl went back down the aisles with the eggs, slightly worse for the wear, to get his bag.

He didn't miss what he heard behind him, and he didn't care what they had to say.

"He busted my lip over marshmallow eggs," Glenn mumbled.

"Love makes a man do crazy things," Michonne responded.

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Carol sat in bed long after she heard the stillness become absolute around the prison. Michonne had brought her a book from the run as an unexplained gift, not even expecting anything in return for it, and she was devouring the pages of it while she waited for her nighttime visitor.

She hadn't seen him much after the run because he'd been helping Rick with things, but she knew that she'd get her time with him. She always got her time with him…the quiet time that they enjoyed together and she coveted…when the rest of the world was asleep.

And Daryl didn't disappoint. He came, creeping to her cell, still keeping their time secret for whatever time nature would allow them that, and slipped into the doorway, dropping his bag by her bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off quietly before he ever said a word.

Then he moved around enough to kiss her and she smiled at him when the kiss broke.

"What happened on the run?" She asked.

"Nothin'," Daryl offered.

He dug around in his bag, looking for something.

"I brought'cha lotsa stuff," he said, "but I got'cha somethin' real special too."

He pulled a box that had obviously been through a lot from his bag and offered it to her. She smiled when she saw what it was. These were her favorite, and he knew that. He'd brought her some before on accident and she'd told him then that she would stockpile them and hide them in the refrigerator to enjoy even after the holiday that offered them had passed.

"You got me marshmallow eggs!" She cooed.

And she immediately began to get into the box. They were half destroyed, but they would taste amazing…she already knew that and she was already prepared for them.

"They ain't much," Daryl offered. "But it was the last box. Eat 'em slow, though…it weren't easy gettin' 'em an' I don't know when I'll be able ta get'cha no more."

Carol thanked him sincerely for the treats and opened one of them, putting the box aside for later. She nibbled at it, determined to make it last longer than she normally would, even though she was fighting the urge to cram the whole thing into her mouth.

"Mmmmm…" she hummed, closing her eyes against the flavor.

"Good?" Daryl asked, grinning at her now.

"Amazing," she said. "But what happened to your eye?"

Daryl chuckled.

"Just a lil' somethin' tryin' ta get them," he said with a laugh.

Carol frowned.

"You got hurt trying to get me something? Daryl!" Carol protested.

He chuckled.

"It weren't serious," he said. "You shoulda seen the other guy. Besides…it was worth it just ta see that look on ya face."

"Walkers?" Carol asked, furrowing her brow.

"Koreans," Daryl said with a chuckle. He leaned forward, seeking out a marshmallow and chocolate flavored kiss. "Now come 'ere an' tell me how much you appreciate my efforts."

Carol didn't know what had happened, but she did appreciate the treats…and no matter what he brought back, whether it was an empty sack or the last box of chocolate covered marshmallow treats on Earth…she always loved and appreciated Daryl. A kiss was only the beginning of all the ways that she could show him that.


End file.
